Дэвид Копперфильд

I have a Change

           Mybrother-in-law,Tom,washerfather.’

           Icouldn’thelpit.‘-Dead,Mr.Peggotty?’Ihinted,afteranotherrespectfulsilence.

           ‘Drowndead,’saidMr.Peggotty.

           Ifeltthedifficultyofresumingthesubject,buthadnotgottothebottomofityet,andmustgettothebottomsomehow.SoIsaid:

           ‘Haven’tyouANYchildren,Mr.Peggotty?’

           ‘No,master,’heansweredwithashortlaugh.‘I’mabacheldore.’

           ‘Abachelor!’Isaid,astonished.‘Why,who’sthat,Mr.Peggotty?’pointingtothepersonintheapronwhowasknitting.

           ‘That’sMissisGummidge,’saidMr.Peggotty.

           ‘Gummidge,Mr.Peggotty?’

           ButatthispointPeggottyImeanmyownpeculiarPeggottymadesuchimpressivemotionstomenottoaskanymorequestions,thatIcouldonlysitandlookatallthesilentcompany,untilitwastimetogotobed.Then,intheprivacyofmyownlittlecabin,sheinformedmethatHamandEm’lywereanorphannephewandniece,whommyhosthadatdifferenttimesadoptedintheirchildhood,whentheywereleftdestitute:andthatMrs.Gummidgewasthewidowofhispartnerinaboat,whohaddiedverypoor.Hewasbutapoormanhimself,saidPeggotty,butasgoodasgoldandastrueassteelthosewerehersimiles.

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